


Terminal Velocity

by ftld



Series: Theory [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4518273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ftld/pseuds/ftld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot can change in four years—even more can change in a day. Twelve pieces of Yuffie's life from Traverse Town to Radiant Garden and back again, with Leon everywhere in-between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terminal Velocity

**Author's Note:**

> More cross-posting from FFn. Love to lilhb421 for pre-reading and support. :)
> 
> Poetry is Lost from Jewel's A Night Without Armour.

1

_Lost is a puzzle of stars_

‘This is how the world ends,’ Yuffie thought, her back pressed flat against Cid’s.  Her breath came rapid and shallow, visible in the morning chill.  She traced Vincent’s blurring red cape across the tree-tops.  ‘For real, this time.’

She’d said hell would reign before she set foot in Wutai again, but she didn’t actually _mean_ it.

The shadows closed ranks, circled in.  Somewhere off in the distance a gunshot twisted into Chaos’ roar.

She was falling, falling, falling… through the earth and through Midgar and twisting up to meet Meteor head-on, and when she crashed back into the ground the shadows swarmed.

Yuffie never had been one for screaming—but, then again, who was going to tell on her?  There wasn’t anyone left to hear it.

* * *

 2

_that breathes like water_

_and_

It took her a couple minutes to identify the mist swirling out from the cracked earth: the lifestream.  She cursed.  That was just what they needed.  Although, she thought as it washed over her, maybe a psychedelic trip through her subconscious would be more enjoyable than watching the destruction of Wutai.  It hadn’t been any fun the first time, and she wasn’t much for trying for a different outcome this time.  The lifestream was green, soft.  It consumed and cradled her all at once until she was left drifting, nothing more than a leaf in the wind.  The instant Yuffie adjusted to the sensation, she dropped.

She hit the ground with less force than she was prepared for.  She looked up, and saw a ghost.  She blinked.  The lifestream was gone.  Wutai was gone.  There were solid cobble-stones digging into her palms, her muscles ached, and this was real.  And…

“Aerith?”  She wasn’t going to cry.  She didn’t know where she was or who these people milling about were, and she _wasn’t_ going to fling herself into Aerith’s arms and bawl her eyes out like she wanted to.  She refused.

“Hi, Yuffie.”  Aerith’s smile was enough to make Yuffie’s heart stutter.  She could only stare, dumbfounded, as Aerith stood and brushed off her dress.  “Well, I didn’t expect _that_ to happen.”

Yuffie barely heard any of the rest.  She was aware of the man, understood that her planet had given its final death-rattle, and knew that Aerith had performed one last miracle to save who she could.  Yuffie allowed herself to be led through the town she supposed now qualified as home without thinking much of it.  She felt a door swing closed behind her, and was left staring at Aerith with the same dumb expression that had surely been on her face the whole time.

Aerith smiled.  “You’ve grown.”

There were about a hundred things Yuffie had to say to that, but in the end all she could spit out was, “How are you here?”

“It’s a long and complicated story, and one I don’t think I wish to share just now.  Let’s just say that I took a gamble, and it worked out well.”  Aerith’s smile didn’t falter, but Yuffie still caught the hint of something sad crossing her face.

“If you say so.”  Yuffie’s voice cracked, and damn if those weren’t honest-to-god _tears_ gathering at the corners of her eyes.  She couldn’t figure out if she should be embarrassed or not, there was so much catapulting through her.  “I’m just glad you’re here.  It was…  It wasn’t easy, after you were gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Yuffie.  I wish I could have stayed with you all, but I’m here now.”

Yuffie lost it.  Tears flooded down her face, picking up in strength the instant Aerith’s arms wrapped around her body and held her close.

“Shh, it’s okay.”  Aerith whispered the words into her hair.  “We’re going to be alright.  I’m so proud of you, and we’re going to make it through this.”

Yuffie let herself drown in grief and fear for exactly two more wrenching sobs before she pulled away and started putting herself back together.  Aerith was right—they’d make it through this just like they’d endured countless obstacles, no matter the odds.  All she had to do was be strong. 

* * *

8

_into extinction._

Yuffie startled awake, muscles tensed and ready to strike.  The muted, beige ceiling and the soft rise and fall of Leon’s chest were all that greeted her from her nightmare.  No fire blistered her skin, no smoke coated her lungs.  There were no heartless clawing their way over her body.  Sometimes, it was hard to remember that.

She let out a long breath before turning and tucking her head against Leon’s shoulder.  He wriggled beneath her cheek for a moment—he never used to do that—and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah.”  She was lying.  They both knew it, but Leon never called her out on it.  Yuffie kind of loved him for it.

This thing they did was _weird_.  It was all sorts of screwed up and inappropriate, but it started out innocent and in a lot of ways it still was.  It didn’t matter, in the end.  She couldn’t have survived without him, and she didn’t want to find out what would become of her if they were separated now.  She’d be a mess, for certain—well, more of a mess.  Leon probably wouldn’t fare much better, which was the only reason she didn’t want to swallow a half-dozen of her shuriken every time she realized how much she needed him.  He needed her, too, after all, and Yuffie wasn’t petty enough to make him say it when he’d extended the same courtesy.

“Do you…” Leon sounded hesitant.  Yuffie found herself holding her breath, beyond curious as to what had prompted Leon to break protocol.  He never asked questions on these nights.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

Warmth bubbled in Yuffie’s gut, radiated out through her limbs and into the fingers tightening around the cotton of Leon’s t-shirt.  “No.”

“Okay.”

No one had ever expected much of her.  The difference with Leon was that he didn’t expect nothing and he didn’t want everything, either.  He expected only what she could give—and of _that_ he wanted every single bit.  Yuffie just wanted him.  She never had been any good at picking her battles.

She drifted back to sleep, thoughts of Leon and the end of days swirling together in her mind.

* * *

9

_Desperation: the honest recognition_

_of a false truth._

Yuffie had an inescapable fear that whatever it was she had with Leon was teetering on the edge of a knife, and she had far less control over it than she’d like.  They’d had a moment, sure—had a few of them, actually—but while they were both fine with taking the little steps, apparently neither of them were capable of taking the giant, flying leap necessary to actually get things going.  It’d been four weeks since the postern; since the _moment_ where she let him catch a glimpse of how much she respected and cared for him beneath all the sarcasm and attitude.  It was hard not to think of that as a mistake when he’d only inched closer, then turned right around and sulked for an entire month.  For that one, beautiful day she’d thought that Leon was letting go of his issues.  He hadn’t quite made it.  Yuffie didn’t know if she should give up, step up her game, or just smack Leon around a bit for making her feel like such a girl.

She was waiting for him to make a move.  It was only fair—it was his turn.  Whether or not she had the patience for him to get there on his own was a whole other issue.  It seemed fitting that instead of making any real progress, they sparred.

Yuffie had her favorite shuriken in hand and ten kunai stashed in her vest.  She’d managed to sneak by with some thunder magic, too, despite that their bouts were strictly magic-free.  Leon broke the rules, too, though—Yuffie _knew_ he was packing some serious fire spells—but he’d wait for her to start cheating before joining in.  Leon was noble like that.

The familiarity of standing six yards away, shifting her weight and readying herself for a sprint-match was as soothing as it was infuriating.  There was only so much frustration she could vent through fighting, and her options for how to deal with the rest were unappealing at best.  She wasn’t going to admit it, but she was having a hard time.  Leon was having it worse, but so long as he didn’t call her out, she’d do the same.  Without the need for constant vigilance they were atrophying.  There wasn’t anything left for them to fight but each other, and it was hard to ease away from using violence as an outlet for all of her turmoil.  Rebuilding had helped.  Letting Cid teach her the ins and outs of the computer systems had helped, too.  Aerith and her constant talk of futures had _not_ , and Leon’s mirrored need for keeping his weapons sharp and polished only went so far toward making Yuffie feel like if she was lost, at least she wasn’t alone.

Trudging forward was a struggle, but Yuffie had managed to take a step and the least Leon could do was acknowledge it.  Yuffie wanted to _throttle_ him.  It had been four endless weeks of anticipation and watching Leon’s every move, and Yuffie was at the end of her rope.  She altered her grip on the shuriken between her fingers and glared.  She was angry, left feeling not good enough and not worthy and about a hundred other things that made her want to prove her value in an excessive and brutal manner.  Leon had a wicked gleam in his eyes, like he was tired of all the pussy-footing, too.  Yuffie took it as a sign and did what she did best; she cheated.

The lightning blasted across the maw and left the air sizzling.  Leon let a ball of fire loose before she’d even finished casting.  He knew her too well.

This match was different from the others, she’d known it would be from the moment they’d stepped into their places, but the reality was much more intense than the expectation.  This time—she didn’t know how to finish the thought.  It was like where there used to be bumpers and safeties, now there was only temper and a fine, fine line she felt compelled to keep one toe over.  It was sparring in a way that was serious instead of instructive or relieving.  Leon’s blade whistled an inch from her ear, and Yuffie decided that this naked, raw tension dancing between them was the most intimate Leon had ever been with her.

“Come on, is that all you’ve got?”  She probably shouldn’t be taunting him, but bravado had served Yuffie well throughout her life, and there was no reason why it wouldn’t now. 

Leon narrowed his eyes, circled, and reassessed.

“Don’t give me that look,” Yuffie snapped.  She _hated_ that they’d ending up like this—closer than ever and discovering layers upon layers still left to be peeled away.  “I thought you didn’t believe in going easy.  Guess that makes me an idiot.”

Leon said nothing.  He shifted his weight forward and knocked two of her kunai right out of the air.  Yuffie was starting to think that he had something to prove.

The next lunge met air, as had all the rest, but the follow-up of gloved knuckles she hadn’t expected.  He pulled the punch, tapped her on the mouth and leapt over leg-sweep she tried to pull off.  Yuffie tasted leather and saw red.  Leon was fighting dirty.

The next swing would have scalped her if she hadn’t seen it coming.  She countered with a combination she hadn’t used in years.  She didn’t consciously mean to, but adrenaline stormed her system and she was _done_ playing around.  Leon might be willing to pull his punches, but Yuffie wasn’t about to follow suit.  He’d keep up.  Wutai had a name for the technique, but she’d always found it more cheesy than impressive.  She gave her last slash a bit more flair than was necessary and considered that maybe all her grouchy ancestors just liked a show as much as she did.

Yuffie added a kick at the end, because she had an opening, and sent Leon sprawling flat on his back in the dirt.  She felt tall standing over him, twirling a knife through her fingers, but she didn’t feel any better.

“Had enough?” she goaded.  Never mind that she was panting and Leon had barely broken a sweat.  He was a machine, and Yuffie was seriously out of shape if she was getting tired already.

“Not yet.”

“Fine by me.”  Yuffie backed off and let him up.  She was going to be sore by the time this was over.  She’d just have to make sure Leon was, too.

The situation was rapidly escalating to the point where she needed to just let it go.  There was a difference between fighting for what she wanted and desperately clinging onto something that might never come to pass, and Yuffie never had been one to beg.  The problem was the inferno raging between them—flames licking at her skin and the heady knowledge that she loved him, and it looked like he wasn’t going to let her.  Somewhere, buried under all of his mountains of baggage, she thought he might love her back.  It was as good a reason as any to fight a bit longer, but not today.  For today she’d retreat and lick her wounds, think of another approach.

Leon was afraid, Yuffie could see that.  The part that bothered her was that he wrapped his fear up in disinterest and avoidance, like he didn’t even understand what the problem was in the first place.  She was trying to figure out why knowing all this just made her want to leap into his arms, wrap her legs around his waist, and try to suck his tonsils out.

She really did have to stop the fantasizing.  It was becoming too much of a distraction.

“Do I even want to know where your head is?” Leon asked.  Damn him and the way he _always_ knew when she was daydreaming.

After ten minutes—really more like two, but it _felt_ like an hour—Yuffie decided she’d had enough.  Screw backing off.  It wasn’t her style.  She absently noticed that she wasn’t even pretending to have her weapons at the ready anymore.  “I have an inexplicable desire to shove my hand down your pants _right now_.”

She probably could have phrased that one better.

Leon stared, unblinking, for thirty painful seconds while Yuffie tried to convince herself not to do just that.  “Oh.”

“I won’t, though.”  She sounded about as certain as she felt, which was not at all.

“Right.”

She pushed her shoulders back and forced herself to look him in the eye.  “I won’t, because it’s your turn.”

Leon was gobsmacked—it was obvious in the slight loosening of his jaw and the way he leaned back on his heels.  Yuffie loved that she could read him so easily; she was the only one who could.  She spun in a half-circle and strode through the winding path cut between the cliffs.  She knew Leon every bit as well as he knew her, and the best thing to do was to let him think she’d said her piece.  Besides, she had to get away from him before she bust her gut with the effort it took not to laugh at the look on his face.

“Does this mean you yield?” Leon called after her.

Yuffie answered with a spectacular wave of one finger in the air.  No matter how hard she tried to fight it, the beginnings of a smile pulled at her lips.  ‘ _Tag, you’re it._ ’

* * *

 3

_chews like stone._

Yuffie felt sort of bad about ferreting all the information she could about Leon—Squall— _whoever_ , out of Merlin, but she was curious.  If he would just throw her a bone every now and then she wouldn’t have to resort to such drastic measures.  Plus, it was fun, and it was so _easy_.  Reno’s tricks shouldn’t go to waste, after all, and since he wasn’t around anymore…

The simplest way to get Merlin to spill anything and everything was to simply hang around his cottage and let him go about his business.  It didn’t take much, just a few prods to get him on the subject she wanted, and once he got going all she had to do was kick back and try not to spook him by doing something crazy enough that he’d notice who he was talking to.

The problem was that the more Merlin talked about Hollow Bastion, about the man Leon had been back when he was Squall, the worse Yuffie felt for prying.  She’d expected hyperbole and melodrama—instead she got something far too close to what she’d endured when her world was destroyed.  She should have known better.  Just because she thought Leon was sort of ridiculous didn’t mean he hadn’t suffered every bit as much as the rest of them had.  Leon had it worse in a lot of ways.  Yuffie had no authority.  There wasn’t a whole lot she could have done, but at least she knew that she gave it her all.  Leon had responsibilities, people who depended on him, and they were all gone.  He was kind of like Cloud in the way that he pulled in all the blame and held it close, like it was some sort of demented security blanket—and Cloud wouldn’t appreciate what she was doing one bit.  It wasn’t a stretch to think that Leon wouldn’t, either.

She sat alone, outside the hotel room she shared with Aerith, staring at the jagged, grey blocks built into the alley and decided the worst part was that the more she learned about ‘Squall’ the less she liked him.  Maybe the version of Yuffie that ran around trying to steal materia and fell into more traps than she evaded would have gotten a kick out his brand of dark and broody, but the Yuffie that lived in Traverse Town didn’t care much for that sort of angsty rebellion.  Leon was different.  He was swagger without knowing it, a mix of uncertain and confident that she could see in herself, and she found that examining his particular type of strength inspired her to want it for herself.  She supposed that meant she was growing up.

Yuffie wasn’t going admit to all the snooping she’d done.  She wasn’t going to tell Leon she was sorry, and she wasn’t going to keep feeling guilty over it—but maybe she could throw the poor guy a rope and adjust her expectations a bit.  Maybe she could give this Leon guy a shot, after all, he’d done the same for her.  He’d given her a chance when he had no reason to, and it didn’t matter that every now and then he was so infuriating that she wanted to drop-kick him off the top of the Gizmo Shop.  Yuffie owed him, and Leon deserved better from her.  She was going to have to get invested and start putting in some effort instead of just using Leon’s big heartless-extermination-brigade to pass the time.

For some odd reason, she remembered when Cid had explained all the ways the monsters were wreaking havoc on their world—how there had been this entirely separate battle for survival going on right under their noses.  It was in their forests and on their plains; it stretched from Wutai to Midgar, unbothered by the conflicts raging in the human world.  The lesson, according to Cid, was that there was always something deeper, churning below the surface, and it rarely a fuck about you.  Suddenly, she missed the grumpy old bastard.  She didn’t see him nearly enough.  Besides, she’d more than met her quota for introspection for at least the rest of the year.

There was something childish yet exhilarating to dangling by her arms off the side of the balcony, feet swinging in the open air and letting herself drop into a crouch in the back alley behind the hotel.  It was hardly far, but Traverse Town wasn’t built up; it was low and sprawling, and small.  Yuffie had to take her cheap thrills where she could get them.

She hopped over the crates at the end of the alley and waltzed into Cid’s shop with as big of a bang as she could muster.  She swatted at the dust fluttering through the air and took a moment to look around.

“Wow.”  Yuffie whistled.  The space was cluttered and dark, but it already reminded her of Cid’s garage back in Rocket Town.  She wagered that it wouldn’t take much more work before it was up and running.  “Not too shabby.”

“Hands where I can see them.”  Cid didn’t so much as glance away from his work-table.  “And just where the hell have you been?”

Yuffie was touched that he actually took the cigarette out of his mouth before asking.  Usually he grumbled around it.  If he were anyone else, she would have teased him.  She also would have beat him senseless for implying she was a thief, but, well…

“I’ve been fighting heartless.”  Yuffie propped her hands on her hips and blatantly ignored how much the action reminded her of two years ago, when she was tiny and fool-hearted, trying to take over the world when she didn’t even know her own backyard.

“If you say so, kid.”  Cid glanced over and narrowed his eyes.  “You serious?”

“Of course.”  Yuffie did her best to plaster the biggest shit-eating grin manageable on her face.  It probably wasn’t working so well from the way Cid was frowning.  Then again, he was always frowning.

“How you doing on weapons?”  Cid turned back to his soldering iron.  “Leon’s got me working up some ammunition for him.  Wouldn’t be too much trouble to get you some gear together, too.”

Yuffie generally wished that her father had been a lot more like Cid: honest and forthcoming; tough as nails, but supportive in his own way; and willing to harpoon anyone who looked at her wrong right in the face, even if she _was_ the one who started it.  

“That would be awesome, old man.”

Cid ignored the slight on his age.  “Size?”

“Palm.”  Damn, Yuffie _missed_ this kind of talk.

“Alternatives?”  Cid was already sorting through his piles of scrap.  If he were any more obvious, Yuffie just might have to call him out for actually caring about her.

“Don’t need ‘em.  I still have a bunch of kunai and I managed to keep hold of what you affectionately refer to as the ‘Giant Shuriken of Death.’  Why?  You got suggestions?”

Cid turned to face her, his expression serious.  “My only suggestion is that you don’t go throwing yourself into the ocean when you know you can’t swim.”

The analogy rattled her, though by all accounts it was one of Cid’s mildest barbs.  She wasn’t going to let it show, though.  “You doubting me, old man?”

“Nah.  I know you’ve still got some tricks.”  That actually made her feel a lot better.  There was something to be said for knowing someone else had confidence in you.  It meant even more when it was someone like Cid.  “Four or six points?”

“Four.  They fly better than six.”

“Better grip.”  Cid agreed.

Yuffie didn’t want to ask, but she felt compelled to anyway.  “You think I’m doing the right thing here?”

Cid didn’t need more than a second to answer.  “I think you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t do something.”

That was good enough for her, for now.

“So, what brings you around?” Cid shot a look at her that managed to be both knowing and irritated.

“I needed weapons.”  He was never going to buy it, but Yuffie didn’t want to give in too easily.  It was hard enough to acknowledge that she wanted advice in the first place; asking for it bordered on the impossible.

“Liar.”

“So maybe I just wanted to talk.”  Yuffie hopped up onto the counter and swung her legs a couple of times before stilling.  Cid didn’t pry, didn’t ask questions.  He kept to his work and waited for Yuffie to get her thoughts in order.  It was easier to get going without a pile of expectations blocking her path.  “How do you apologize for something you _totally_ didn’t do without making it sound like you’re… you know, apologizing?”

“What happened?” Cid asked.

“Nothing bad, per se…  I swear, I’m totally innocent.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fine.”  Yuffie rubbed the same spot on the counter and considered how she wanted to lead into what was bothering her.  “So, Leon—”

“What about him?”  Cid sounded far to amused for her taste.  He knew where she was headed, and he wasn’t going to help her get there at all.

She almost started ranting, she’d had more than enough practice at it over the past couple of months, and it would be nice to have a new audience.  Aerith was getting tired of hearing about it.  Yuffie couldn’t quite muster up all of the little annoyances, though.  Leon did his fair share of things to piss her off, but at the end of the day he was on her side.  Even if he was a smug jerk-ass about it sometimes.

“God, I hate him.”

Cid scoffed.  “No, you don’t.”

“I know!”  Yuffie threw her arms in the air.  “What’s _up_ with that?”

Cid finally looked away from his work.  “Feel better now that you’ve got that off your chest?”

The strange thing was that she did.  One tiny outburst and the whole thing didn’t seem so massively complicated any more.  Yuffie nodded and plastered her most obnoxious grin across her face, so Cid would know that she was still her, and that there was no way one little hiccup in her life was going to bring her down.

“Good.  Now scram.  I’ve got shit to do, and you’ve got a non-apology to work out.”

Yuffie wanted to stick around and poke at Cid’s buttons, but she mostly wanted to stay so she wouldn’t have to think about why she felt so guilty for being a busy-body.  She slid down from the counter.  “Fine.  I can see when I’m not wanted.”

“Don’t be a stranger, kid,” Cid said—his own way of making sure she knew he didn’t mind having her around.

Yuffie snapped a mocking salute before ducking out the door, spinning to the right, and climbing up to the rooftops.  Two buildings over she folded her legs and sat.

There wasn’t enough space in Traverse Town. The air was heavy, felt burdensome instead of crisp on the tip of her tongue, like Wutai.  There was no constant background noise, like Midgar.  Yuffie uncrossed her legs and brought her knees up and together to rest her cheek against them.  This was probably how Leon felt all the time for the past who-knew how many years.  Yuffie found herself immeasurably sad for that.

Far beyond the horizon she caught sight of a spark that reminded her of the sun setting over the summit of Da Chao.  In a blink it was gone, and for the first time since she crash-landed in Traverse Town Yuffie felt homesick.

* * *

4

_Alone is a reminder_

Yuffie was soaring long after the battle was over.  Adrenaline rushed her system with the wind cutting her cheeks, and she hadn’t ever realized how much she missed having something substantial to fight for.  It was all over too quickly, in her opinion.  She’d barely even gotten the chance to warm up between nearly being bum-rushed off the side of the cliff, getting rescued by Aerith of all people, and Leon rushing in to save the day.  Still, her blood was pumping and they’d beat those assholes back, no problem.  The hard part was getting Leon to see it.

Leon had always been so calm, even when he was raging.  He had a specific form of discipline that was near impossible to break, so Yuffie didn’t always know what to do on the rare occasion that he snapped.  She hadn’t thought it possible for Leon to lose his cool until that first day back in Hollow Bastion; a handful of months and three more episodes hadn’t desensitized her in the least.

She saw him differently once she knew that he was human and capable of breaking.  He wasn’t a mountain, wasn’t infallible or impervious like she wanted to believe.  Leon’s fortitude had been born of his courage, even if he couldn’t see that, and the fact that he’d grown that way, that he’d worked for it and still managed to keep himself humble in the process made strange things dance in her stomach.

She felt like she was flying the whole way home; she chose to attribute it to the fighting, instead of to Leon—but there was no denying that he was sort of adorable when he worried over her.  It made her want to squish up against him and wrap her arms around his middle and just _bury_ herself in his clothes.  She paused in front of the door and indulged in a grin before forcing it away.  It was nice to feel cared for, but she was fine and Leon was probably going to need a reminder of that.

Two seconds later it hit her.

“Well, shit.”

Leon was in there.  He was probably putting on a huge production of brooding while not-so-secretly obsessing over every little detail of whole day, but she’d be able to tell no matter how hard he tried to hide it.  She’d tease him and he’d tease her right back, in his way, and the anticipation welled up in her stomach like a rattlesnake.  When the hell had _that_ happened?

Yuffie, when the occasion called for it, could be perfectly reasonable.  In this instance she spent five minutes running her brain in circles between confused, furious, and mortified, then squared her shoulders and pulled it together.  She had better things to do, like getting Leon out of his funk; it was practically her job, after all.  If she got a bit of comfort out of laying close and reminding herself that they’d won and he was still warm and breathing and every bit as unwavering as he’d ever been, that’d just be a bonus.

* * *

5

_of how far your acceptance is_

Yuffie caught herself staring at the most inappropriate times.  It would have been tolerable if it was only when Leon was working on the buildings, or doing push-ups, or even while he maintained his gunblade—it wasn’t like he had a monopoly on the weaponry fetish, after all.  It was absolutely not okay to drool over Leon while he was in the middle of defending her life choices to Aerith, and she might have to take a flying leap off the ruins of the castle if anyone ever caught her staring while he did something as pathetically mundane as reviewing Cid’s inventory.

Every person who ever told her that the type of unfamiliar, undesirable, flat out _gross_ sensations that came in hand with crushes faded with time was nothing but a liar.  Cid, Aerith, Tifa—none of them had any idea what the _hell_ they were talking about.  It might have helped if Yuffie was more forthcoming about the confusion that had her so rattled, but it was one thing to admit that she was crushing on Leon to herself and another entirely to say it out loud.

The snowball effect—one of Tifa’s terms—came crashing into the picture, and days later she found herself fantasizing about sleeping a little closer, about a different kind of touch to her shoulder in the mornings while they were having breakfast.  Her whole day slotted so neatly into the daydream that it took her longer than she cared to snap herself out of it.  She couldn’t count all the reasons, once she gave up trying not to.  Leon wasn’t nice, exactly, but he was steady.  He treated her like a comrade rather than a child, and though he teased her, sometimes, he never mocked.  Leon hated mush and loved blades every bit as much as she did, and when she imagined it—that life they could have together—she went weak in the knees and felt her heart give a stutter.  The entire thing, beginning to end, was unacceptable.  Yuffie did not swoon over boys, she was better than that—except that apparently she wasn’t.

The change coursing through her was confusing.  Part of her was anxious for a dozen reasons she couldn’t begin to sort out.  She liked this new, floaty feeling and wanted to throw herself face-first into the tides and let the ocean wash her away because it was there and she _could_ —but there was another side to it.  There was a new piece of her that was pleased with who and where she was, and that sliver bristled at the idea of allowing someone else to have any say over the continuance of her happiness.  Yuffie decided that the skeptical part of her sounded entirely too much like Cid.  She could picture that exasperated scowl wrapped around a cigarette as he told her over and over to at least make sure that she wasn’t going to drown in the ocean she was leaping into.  

The sad truth of the matter was that if Leon was the ocean, she was already drowning.  He held that power over her whether or not she wanted him to.  She gave it to him long ago, in a silent hotel room in Traverse Town, without knowing what it meant.

* * *

6

_from your understanding._

“You’ve gotta get your head out of the clouds,” Cid said.  There might have been an eye-roll thrown in, but Yuffie was flat on her back on top of the counter, staring at the ceiling fan and couldn’t confirm the suspicion.  Cid’s place in Hollow Bastion was entirely too similar to his shop in Traverse Town.  Yuffie found the familiarity both comforting and supremely creepy.  “The mooning is starting to get embarrassing.  You may as well have Leon-encrested hearts floating around your head.”

“I’m not _that_ obvious, am I?”  The last thing she wanted was to look like some desperate, pining girl.  The possibility was _horrific._

“Only sometimes.”

That wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear.  “Well, shit.  Do you think he knows?”

It had been a long time since Yuffie had heard Cid laugh so freely.  She turned her head and grinned just in time to see him run a palm over his face and shake his head.  “Anybody else, sure.  Leon?  Not a chance.  Man’s about as dense as concrete.”

“Small mercies.”

Cid gave her a _look_ , the one that said he thought she wasn’t using her head and needed a lecture.  “I don’t know about that.”

Against all better judgement, she asked, “Why’s that?”

Cid huffed.  “I think you’re cheating yourself is all.  If you care so damn much, how awful is a bit of humiliation?  Honestly, girl, some red in your cheeks isn’t going to define you for the rest of your fool life.  There’s no shame in something like this—everything falls at the same speed, even you.”

Yuffie always had the same small, content feeling spread through her body when Cid took something so utterly human and broke it down into facts and absolutes right before her eyes.  “I like that one.  What’s it called?”

“It’s called gravity you under-educated cretin.”  He stomped another circuit around his shop before glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.  Cid tossed a rag in her face.  “I’ll teach you about it sometime.  If you’re going to lay around bugging me, at least help out.”

Normally Yuffie would have made a token gesture before settling back on top of the counter, but she figured that the distraction could prove helpful.  She swung her legs over the edge of the counter and vaulted herself to the floor.  She glared at Cid, though, so he would know she wasn’t happy about his new work-for-advice policy.

Yuffie started scrubbing at the last remnants of an oil stain and tried to phrase her question in a way that wouldn’t bruise her pride any more than necessary.  It was an impossible task, but she spent ten minutes on it out of stubbornness.  Sometimes it was okay to lose the battle; Leon had taught her that.  A little embarrassment with Cid was nothing compared to the bigger picture.  Besides, who was he going to tell?  “So, say I were to embarrass myself.  How, exactly, would I go about it?”

“How would a normal person do it, or how would _you_?  Cause I’m betting you’d just make your sappy confession while he’s unconscious.”

“Oh.  That could work.”  That could _really_ work.  She’d heard something about the subconscious absorbing information… right?  She could just implant the whole spiel straight into his brain without ever having to actually say it to his face.

“Yuffie, I was kidding.”

“But I _like_ this plan!”

Cid crossed him arms and drew his shoulders back.  Yuffie straightened up instantly and cursed herself for responding to the authoritative stance.

“That’s the coward’s way out, and you know it.”

She would _not_ bow her head, she refused, but she still felt put in her place.  “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You listen up, ‘cause I’m only going to say this once: you’re better than that.”

A tangled mess of appreciation flowed through her.  Cid was good at this—he could make her laugh, be her friend, and get her to listen with a simple shift of posture when any other time she’d be stomping out the door—and it wasn’t fair.  It hurt, in that retrospective, could-have-been sort of way.  “Why’d you have to waste your time having tea parties in Rocket Town when you could’ve been keeping me from losing my mind in Wutai?”

Cid chuckled, the serious nature of their conversation forgotten.  “I wouldn’t wish that job on anyone.”

“Not even Leon?” Yuffie teased.  It was good of him to give her an out.

Cid grumbled.  “He’s not good enough for you, anyway.”

At that, Yuffie grinned.  “When have I ever wanted what was good for me?”

So, Cid was a bit of a crap-shoot.  Yuffie didn’t hear what she wanted to, but she left feeling more at ease with the choices ahead of her, and she supposed that counted for a lot.  At least she could feel a bounce in her walk instead of an anvil over her shoulders as she strode away from Cid’s and leapt to the rooftops.

Leon used to do this thing back in Traverse Town where he perched atop the Gizmo Shop and stared out over the Second District for hours on end.  He thought no one noticed.  Yuffie had taken to planting herself on the roof of the cafe in the First District as some sort of parallel, but hadn’t thought about why until much later.  She supposed it was that, even back then, she could understand why he did it.  It wasn’t very high up, but it was enough to make the humdrum bustle of Traverse Town feel a bit less significant—like the small town of refugees wasn’t all that was left in the great, open sky.  She’d done something similar back in Wutai, before she left the first time, frantic with desperation to find out if there was more to life than tradition and duty.  She remembered wondering if it was ironic that she was in a new town, still a slave to duty, or if that was one of Cid’s lessons she remembered wrong.  It had felt different; like it was something she’d chosen for herself instead of something thrust upon her.  It helped that she wasn’t going it alone, either.  Across town, Leon would mirror her posture.  His legs dangled off a roof while he watched Traverse Town, same as her.  Now, in Hollow Bastion, that sense of duty had shifted yet again.  It felt more like a sturdy warmth, a purpose given shape by her determination, instead of the other way around.

Yuffie took a moment to consider the sensation before plunking herself down on the roof of the weapon shop and letting her legs dangle in the open air.  She stared out at the ruins of the castle, traced the route upwards to the high-tower.  She didn’t know much of what had happened, but she knew enough.  If she closed one eye and squinted she could pretend she could make out a vague, Leon-shaped blob standing at the edge.

She tapped her fingers against her knees, pulled at her socks, and wondered how it was that people found such tranquility in stillness.  Yuffie had never cared for it.  She always wanted to run as hard as she could, feel her legs ache and chest throb.  It never quite felt like living unless it burned.

Later, in the dead of night when she called up enough tenacity to start making waves, she thought there might be something to the whole ‘talk about how you feel’ thing.  The notion was gone as quick as it came.  Leon was faking, poorly, and in a lot of ways so was she, but it worked for them.  She said what she needed to and despite the fact that Leon was so tense she was sure he might spring apart at any second, she felt better for it.  That was all that mattered.  So he’d heard her, no big deal.  He wasn’t going to hold it against her.

* * *

10

_Hope: seeing who you really are_

She wasn’t going to lie, she hadn’t exactly been on board with Leon’s big mission to rebuild his home into its former glory in the beginning.  She’d thought it kind of silly, delusional, even.  Some things can’t be fixed when they’re broken, and Hollow Bastion had been _wrecked._   It wasn’t until they’d finished the houses that she started to come around.  She stood in the front lawn and stared at the finished product, trying to wrap her head around the concept that she’d helped to build that house.  Her sweat, rage, and frustration had crafted those walls out of nothing—and she was so proud of herself that she almost doubled over.  It felt like she’d done the impossible.  She’d made herself a home.  It was funny how a year of hard labor could change so much.

The first thing she had done once the housing was settled was to find the brightest green paint she could, and slather it all over one of the walls in Leon’s bedroom.  She didn’t have much of a reason for it, except that if there was one thing Leon needed more of in his life, it was color.  He never complained, but he did give her dirty looks over breakfast for a week.  Another two went by, and Yuffie painted again—blue this time, like the sky.  She rounded the chromatic scale in record time and before she knew it she was back to green, and that was when she decided she was happy in Hollow Bastion.  It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t any of few things she missed about Wutai, but it was full of friends, adventure, and a grumpy housemate—and it _was._

Yuffie hated the heartless, but she valued the life she was living, and she didn’t know how to feel about that now that things had finally settled down.  She’d found a purpose, something she could do to help and protect the people she cared about, and more to the point, she’d worked hard to carve out her niche—to strike the balance of latching onto Leon’s dream of rebuilding and finding something all her own in it.  She wasn’t doing it for him.  Hollow Bastion didn’t belong to Leon alone, not anymore.

She had days where she felt like if she lost her outlet the rest of her would just crumble away, that without endless shadows creeping along their boundaries, there was nothing left of her.  The only one who understood was Leon, though they didn’t talk about it.  It was more of a silent agreement, an acknowledgement that they were terrible, screwed-up people who couldn’t handle peace because they’d never been taught how to.  All they could do was keep piling up bricks and rafters, and try to clear away the rubble as best they could.  Some days Yuffie thought it might not be a terrible way to live the rest of her life.

The best part was the sky.  Traverse Town had a perpetual feel of gloomy evenings.  Hollow Bastion had _sun_.  She could sit up on the rooftops and watch the sun sink closer to the horizon instead of keeping her eyes peeled for one tiny glint of light somewhere out in the vast reaches of night.  It was a good place to calm down, to think, and Yuffie had more on her mind than she liked.  Her thoughts ran off to the maw—to the lines of thick muscle extending into steel and the ghost of leather against her lips.

Yuffie had made her move and all there was left to do was watch and wait.  Leon would either step up or he wouldn’t, and then she’d have an answer.  She gave herself an hour.  Sixty minutes and she’d climb down to the street, run her errands, wander home, and see what the score was.

She wondered if Leon had kept the habit of perching on rooftops, too.  She’d thought about asking, of course, but Hollow Bastion had always been a clean slate—a fresh start—and she wasn’t going to go snooping like she had before.  He could keep his secrets.

She’d once told Leon that she bet his smile was beautiful—and it was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth.  Leon showed his affection in more obscure ways: with his blade; with a hand on her arm keeping her close and a critical eye making sure she wasn’t hurt; or with a safe haven where she was always listened to and never judged.  Leon’s care flowed out of a warm bed and a hand willing to be taken.  Those little things—they were a thousand times better than smiles.

* * *

11

_at your highest_

_is who you will become._

Yuffie was in awe.  It was nearly an out of body experience.  She walked into the house, arms laden with groceries and supplies, and suddenly all her bags were scattered on the floor and she was standing in front of the west-facing living room wall—she only knew because the sun was _blinding_.

Leon had hung a dark-stained display case that spanned the whole wall between the windows.  Ornate flowers were etched into the wood, the glass slid open on gliders so smooth she only needed the lightest of touch, and hung inside were all of her kunai and shuriken—that he knew about—alongside various pieces of his own.  She really had only been kidding about the armory, but in that moment she couldn’t imagine why.  Taped to the dead-center of the glass was a square of paper that made Yuffie’s knees weak.

It had been four weeks since the moment, going on four years since she’d crashed into Traverse Town, and four _hours_ since she’d laid down the gauntlet and insist Leon get in the game.

_Tag._   The single word was written in precise and even strokes on crisp, white paper and oh, he was good.  Yuffie smiled and slid the display closed, ran her fingers over the blossoms trailing the side.  A keeper if she ever saw one.

She could give in.  There would be no blow to her pride, or nagging insistence that she was doing all the chasing, but it was a hard concept to embrace.  Yuffie never had been good at letting go of her grudges, and she had to admit that she was harboring a small one over the month of stasis that nearly drove her crazy.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t about letting go—maybe it was just time to stop being so angry.

* * *

7

_Fear is a bird that believes itself_

“Aerith Gainsborough, you get your perky ass out here this _instant!_ ” Yuffie screeched.  She wildly searched for a rock or stone or _anything_ to throw at the front door to relay her displeasure, but Aerith’s yard was, of course, immaculate.  She had to settle for more screaming.  “I mean it!  I will break the door down if I have to!”

Cloud stood a few paces back, a bemused almost-smile on his face, but at the threat to Aerith’s home stepped forward.  “No destruction of property.”

“She deserves it.”  Yuffie curled her fingers into fists and took a step toward the door.

“Why?”

Suddenly, all of Yuffie’s anger was focused solely on Cloud, if only for the amount of time it took to kick him in the shin.  “None of your business!”

Cloud muttered.  “You’re the one screaming about it.”

Aerith’s front door creaked open and Yuffie whirled on the spot.  Aerith held her hands in front of her, palms out and fingers splayed, a cocky little smirk dancing at the corners of her lips.  She wasn’t even trying to hide how pleased she was with herself.

“What, _exactly_ , did you say to him?”  Yuffie’s demand was harsh, and only held about a quarter of the ire surging through her veins.  She’d had a _plan_ , damnit!  She was _working on it!_   Never mind that the whole thing crashed and burned more often than she made any progress.

To her credit, Aerith didn’t bother playing dumb.  “Why don’t you go ask him?”

Yuffie snarled.  “Because he won’t even stay in the same room as me for more than five seconds, let alone _speak_ to me!  _What did you do?_ ”

Cloud, if possible, looked more confused than ever.

“We just had a little talk.”  Aerith was trying—and failing—to smother a self-satisfied grin.  Yuffie didn’t need any more evidence than that.

“I can’t believe you told him.”

Aerith rolled her eyes.  “I can’t believe you _didn’t._ ”

There wasn’t much of a comeback for that.  “What the hell am I supposed to do now?  You’ve ruined all my cunning schemes with your… your… _honesty._ ”  She spat the last word out but didn’t quite manage to convey how distasteful she found it.  Still, there was a generous amount of hope in the fact that Leon hadn’t come storming straight at her and demanded she get all the wild fantasies out of her head, pronto, because it wasn’t ever going to happen.  Actually, all be told, being ignored was a rather promising reaction.

“Yuffie.”  Aerith grabbed her by the shoulders and gave a gentle shake.  “Just get over yourself and go give the poor man a hug.”

Cloud took a step back, as if afraid they were talking about him.  Yuffie wanted to get some distance, too.  Just back away, slowly, from the Aerith, before she suggested something _totally_ insane like actually telling Leon she liked him.  “A hug?  Are you serious?”

“Yes.  He really could use one.”

Yuffie frowned.  “No offense, but that’s a little on the touchy-feely side, don’t you think?”

Aerith raised her hand to her mouth, a fruitless attempt to keep herself from giggling.  “The two of you are such a pair.  It’s a wonder one of you hasn’t snapped and jumped the other yet.”

“ _That!_ ” Yuffie stabbed her forefinger toward Aerith and bounced on her heels.  “That’s more like it.  How do I get him to do it?”

“You could buy him flowers.”  Aerith’s snark was beyond hilarious, except for when Yuffie was the target.

“You think you’re so funny!”  Yuffie barely managed to keep herself from stomping her foot.  Acting like a five year old brat wasn’t going to help her case at all.  Despite the yelling and sarcasm, she actually was a little upset by the turn of events.  “Aerith, what do I _do?_ ”

Aerith pulled Yuffie into her arms and squeezed tight.  Yuffie thought about struggling for the half-second it took before her mind drew comparisons between the embrace she was currently suffocating in and one long ago, in Traverse Town, when the whole world had fallen apart before her eyes.  She gave in.

Yuffie took Aerith for granted, now that she was back.  That was something that needed to be set right immediately.  Aerith was solid and warm, and the memory of that horrible day on the Northern Continent when she realized she had to learn to live without Aerith and her smile crashed through her.  It was like she was sixteen and utterly lost with no direction to guide her all over again.  Yuffie groaned, because she wasn’t a _total_ sap, wound her arms around Aerith’s middle and squeezed.

Aerith ducked her head and whispered, “Sometimes you have to let yourself be vulnerable, to have faith that when you expose the flaw in your armor he won’t take aim.”

Yuffie buried her face in Aerith’s hair and exhaled.  “Yeah.  I know.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”  After what must have been a full minute of silence, Aerith sighed.  “If it helps, I think you’re good for him.  You’re a strong girl and you’ll figure it out, if only to spite everyone who ever said you couldn’t.  You’d never let something so silly be the end of you, so what are you scared of?  He’s not going to bite.”

Yuffie pushed away with all the dignity she could muster up.  Honesty and hugs.  She could do that.  “I guess I should go find him.  Who knows how much moping he’s managed to do without me around.”

Poor Cloud looked like his brain was about to explode.  Yuffie shot a wink at him as she walked by, just to mess with his head a little.

“Oh, calm down, she wasn’t talking about _you_.”

* * *

12

_Grace: the refinement of a soul through time_

Her bed was cold and the night felt lonely.  The window was on the wrong side of the room.  She barely kept any clothes in the dresser, all her good weapons were stashed in Leon’s closet, and how was it possible that she felt so naked alone.  The walls were all the wrong colors.

Yuffie had no idea what the hell she was waiting for.  She’d set the rules; it was her turn now, except it wasn’t about taking turns.  Leon had been waiting for something, too, and she was so caught up in keeping score that she never realized it.  She was going to have to jump—lay her cards on the table and shake all the aces out of her sleeves, too.  The prospect was terrifying, but it zipped through her with abandon and sent her heart racing.  Once Yuffie battled down the nausea, it was a wonderful feeling.

She _had_ to stop basing all her world-views off of the things other people had told her and start forming some opinions of her own.  She couldn’t spend the rest of her life thinking, ‘Cid said’ or ‘Aerith once told me’.  That might be the simplest way to see the world, but it wasn’t how Yuffie wanted to live.

She’d taken the easy way too many times.  It was time to own up to what she’d decided back in Traverse Town when her life changed focus from tree branches and materia to heartless and reconstruction.  It was time to be strong.

Yuffie leapt out of bed and strode down the hall before she could think twice.  She didn’t bother knocking; she never had before and certainly wouldn’t start now.  Leon sat against the headboard, a book in his hands, and glanced her way.  If Yuffie didn’t know better, she would have sworn he was nervous.

“So,” she said, “I think we’re going to have to do the reasonable thing and talk.”

She fingered the hem of her shorts.  They were not quite, but _almost_ the same kind she wore when she was traipsing around the planet with Cloud and Tifa.  That had been the first time in her life she’d ever felt free.  It was a feeling she missed, and more than anything she wanted that free-fall, open world back; preferably with a constant companion in the form of Leon.  The thing was that she had to make the giant, flying leap of faith in order to have a chance at it.  This was a kind of brave that Yuffie had never understood before.

She remembered her father, and the tenants of Wutai strength: first and above all else, a challenger must prove themselves worthy.  Yuffie didn’t know what that had to do with her ultimate goal of shoving her tongue down Leon’s throat, but she was sure that the warrior in him would probably manage to find the sentiment romantic when he got over himself and stopped being a baby.

“Yuffie—”

“Oh, just shut up.”  Yuffie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and spent a few seconds trying to make herself calm down.  That wasn’t how she wanted this conversation to go.  She closed her eyes, took a breath, and reached for the last shred of sanity left in her body.  It was worth a try.  In the end she had to settle for something in the middle of furious and zen.  “Look—I get it.  This is weird and new and we’re spinning around it so fast that I’m about to hurl, I’m so dizzy, but I don’t _want_ it to go away.  I like these nauseating butterflies dancing in my stomach, damnit!”

Leon arched an eyebrow.  It took her a full minute to realize that he was trying not to laugh at her.  She cracked a smile, not even caring that she’d had a plan; she was going to be a cool, calm, collected adult about this and stop spending her time trying to work things like alliteration into her daily life in an attempt to impress idiots who thought they knew everything.

Yuffie found her bravery and marched to Leon’s side.  She slid the bookmark off the nightstand and plucked the book from his hands, carefully marking his place before setting it out of the way, and climbed on the bed.  His hips were narrower than she’d assumed, which was fortunate because her legs were short.  He looked at her like she was a question he didn’t know how to express.

She asked it for him.  “Aren’t you curious?”

Leon didn’t shove her off his lap, didn’t spend his entire next breath in denial, didn’t even look at her like she was meddlesome and difficult and all those other things that drove him crazy.  She went for it—and really, it wasn’t the worst kiss she’d had in her life, but it was the same as everything else they did together before the floodgates inevitably collapsed.  It was tentative and held back and Yuffie couldn’t _stand_ it.  She brought her teeth into the mix.  She’d knock those barriers down and to hell with whether Leon was ready for it or not.

Leon groaned, froze for three seconds like he couldn’t believe he’d just done that, and after another ten of cautious breathing, let go.  His fingers buried themselves in her hair—tugged her head to the right and back—his other hand on the small of her back, pressing her closer.  It wasn’t completely desperate, but perhaps somewhere on that side of intense.  Yuffie let the thought linger in her mind that she knew it.  She _knew_ this was what it was supposed to be like.  Leon chose that moment to growl.

As much as she wanted to see how far she could take it, she couldn’t help but listen to the voice in the back of her head screaming for caution.

Leon backed off, took a breath, and touched his forehead to hers.  “Always with the daydreaming.”

Yuffie stifled a mad giggle and let her weight fall to the left.  Her body hit the mattress with a jar, her legs all tangled up in Leon’s.  It struck her that this was the same as every other night, but closer.  She rather liked that.  “Sorry.”

“You don’t sound it with all that laughing.”  Leon didn’t sound too raw about it.  He scooted down the mattress to lay next to her, his hand in the space between them.  Come to think of it, he did that a lot.  Then, he did something completely unprecedented and reached out to her.   “I’m not good at these kinds of things.”

“No shit.  My god, Leon, I think glaciers move faster than you do.”

Leon let the jab go with a chuckle.  His fingers glanced over her skin before settling, still and firm against her palm.  “We don’t actually have to talk about this, right?”

Yuffie grinned.  He was _perfect._   She probably looked like a love-sick puppy when she squealed, “I think feelings are gross, too.”

In all the years since Yuffie had met Leon, she had never once seen an honest-to-god smile, and she was okay with that.  Still, there was a subtle upturn to the corner of his mouth that made her think that the day he could show teeth wasn’t all that far off.  It didn’t matter.  She’d smile enough for the both of them.  He’d whine and bitch and be his generally moody self while she ran full-throttle no matter if it was wise—and that was okay, too.  They’d already done their growing, and there was something indescribably wonderful about being accepted for exactly who she was, flaws and all.

Yuffie squirmed closer, buried her fingers in Leon’s hair and touched her lips to his.  “Yeah.  This is going to be good.”


End file.
